How 'bout a Smile?
by Miz. Jynx
Summary: What happens when the Joker decides to try out torture? A veiw on what one victim thought before being tourtured and killed. Occurs durring TDK, sort of alternate universe thing. Rated M just for safety. Now a two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

_Italics- _thoughts

"Hey!"- speaking

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_It never used to hurt before,_

_It isn't funny anymore._

_Feeling so alone now_

_Funny how you wish someway_

_That you'll die at the hospital._

The used-Hospital

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**Hospital**

Dr. H. Hemstine walked briskly down the hospitals empty corridor. He was finishing up his nightly rounds and soon came to a stop outside the room of his last patient of the night. Picking up the chart that rested outside the door, he quickly scanned it for a name and condition. "Harvey Dent…" he mumbled. "Severe burns to the left side of the face…" The young doctor had heard what had happened and was not looking forward to seeing the white knight. To be quite honest this was his first burn victim.

He quietly swung open the door and was greeted by a bitter combination of burnt flesh and alcohol. Scrunching up his nose in distaste he lightly padded over to his unfortunate patient. Tonight was simple, check and record vitals, look for any change in the healing burns, and inject a shot of morphine.

Hemstine quickly finished with the vitals and them proceeded to check the burns on Harvey's face. "Damn that Joker." he mumbled. "This hospitals never been so busy." Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted the gauze that covered half of the lawyers face. His breath hitched. It was worst than he thought.

The entire left side of Harvey's face was scabbed up and most all of his skin had burned off, leaving his eye completely exposed. Which was weird because the eye itself was unharmed. The skin around the mans cheek was nonexistent, giving the doctor a perfect view of his tongue and teeth. Various tendons still connected the top and bottom jaw. _Lucky man_, he would still be able to eat and talk.

Nothing seemed to be out of place and though the skin would never fully heal, it was coming along quite nicely. Not wanting to look any longer than he had to, Dr. Hemstine applied some medicine to the burns and re-bandaged the wound.

Practiced hands swiftly filled the needle with morphine and injected it into the I.V.

He sighed in relief. "Finally, now I can go home". In three large strides he reached the door and gripped the handle. He stopped in mid-twist. Footsteps. _Weird, I thought I was the only one on this floor. _It was nearly 1 in the morning and there weren't many people that worked nights in Gotham General though Dr. Hemstine's shift ended at 12 but he was particularly lazy that day. Suddenly he heard voices. He got an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach but shrugged it off as paranoia.

Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping he backed away from the door figuring he'd just wait until whoever-it-was to go on their way. His foot hit the table ment to hold up the patients food, knocking over a fork and an unneeded bedpan in the process. "Shit!" he grumbled. The voices suddenly grew quiet and the walking sped into a run until the figures stopped outside the door. The young doctor froze. His breathing stilled and his heart raced.

_What the hell is wrong with me?! Its probably just two nurses coming to see if Harvey's alright. They heard the crash…_

His thoughts drifted off as the door opened. Two figures stood in the doorway. They smelled strongly of Whisky and gasoline, it made his eyes water and his throat dry. "uggh" he moaned. His eyes slowly adjusted to the bright hallway lights. His panic rose, his heart skipped a beat at who he saw. Not a nurse, not a doctor, not even a lowly intern.

A high pitched cackle filed the hospital air. "Why hello there… doctor." There, standing in the door way, was the horrifying face of the Joker.

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**Please review!** This is my first fan fiction and I want to know what you think. **Flamers will be used to make popcorn!** Just so you know, I will only update this if you reviewers want me to. Dr. Hemstine will not stay in the story long, he's just my way of introducing things. This takes place the night before the hospital blows up, when the Joker and his goons plant the bombs. Ill try to stay in character as much as I can and any OC's will not stay in the story long. If I do update this, the **chapters will get longer.**

Remember constructive criticism, and ideas are always welcome, and it doesn't hurt to leave a short little review!


	2. Amputation

**Disclaimer: I do not, nor ever will own the Joker or The Dark Knight. But I do own all OC's and this plot.**

**Emphasis/ Title**

_Thoughts/ Flashback_

"Talking"

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_Out of his mind,_

_The weight pushes him whispering_

_Must have been out of his mind._

_Mid-day delusions_

_Of pushing this out of this head_

_Maybe out of his mind._

The bird and the Worm, The Used

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**How 'bout a smile?**

**Chapter 2**

**Jokers POV, first person**

The young doctor stumbled backwards, griping the table for dear life. _Hmm young, male, approximately late 20's early 30's, blonde hair, brown eyes, scared out of his wits… he'll do. _

I stepped closer, signaling with my hand for my lackey to go on his way. Twirling a small pocket knife in one hand and snatching up the collar of the doctor with the other, I placed the gleaming blade right under his chin.

"So, doctor…" I drifted off. "H-Hemstine." the doctor offered. "Yes Dr. Hemstine. Tell me doctor, could you, ah, help me with a little **pr**oblem?" I asked, licking my lips. "W-well I-I could, I-I mean y-ye-eah I can." the terrified man stuttered.

"Perfect!" I snickered evilly.

_I'd better hurry this along, he might shit his pants. _

"Were to begin? Hmm well ya see its weird. Le'me start from the top. A couple days ago I was walking down an empty street, **at night**, and find myself in an ally. Of course I had no **intention** of going in there, my legs kinda carried me there." I gestured with my hands for emphasis.

"Well any way I end up getting jumped, and for some ironic reason I chose that night to not were any make-up, seeing as I wasn't gonna do anything **'portant**." I licked my lips.

"So these thugs don't recognize me and start **beating** on me. I got really pissed off and took out my knife, of course this didn't stop them, until I sliced into one guys cheeks." I giggled at this.

"Realizing **who** I was, they backed off. But I wasn't gonna let them off that easily, no, I took one of them, and cut his ear off. He was bleeding and bleeding and I just keep laughing. The last three men just stood there, they wouldn't even help their '**friend**'". I sneered, remembering how they just stood back and let me torture the 'poor man'.

"So, being the sadistic bastard I am, I cut his other ear off. Then his nose, then his lips all the while making sure he was still alive!" I couldn't stop my self from giggling at that.

"It was so **fun**! There was blood everywhere, I was practically glazed in the stuff! I think one of the guys even shit themselves when I started disemboweling the earless freak!" I calmed enough to look down at the MD.

"Finally, one of the men who I assume was their leader, begged me not to do the same to them. I obviously didn't listen and got blood all over my favorite coat. Soon they were all dead!" I swung my arms around in an conductor like manner.

"The problem is, I can't figure out why it was so much more satisfying to **prolong** the death of someone while someone **else **is watching, rather than quickly slicing their cheeks up like I used to."

I stopped to ponder over what I just said and realized the blade in my hand was digging into the indent in the mans chin. I yanked him forwards out of Harvey's room and into a storage closet across the hall.

Shoving him in, I stood in front of the door, blocking his only escape route.

"A-are you g-going to kill m-m-me?" He asked in a shaky voice.

"Hmmm…yes." I said simply. _What was your first clue, dumbass?_

I reached into my coat and pulled out the small portable camera I used for the Batman wanabe a couple days back.

"Before we start, did you happen to ah, find out what's **wrong **with me?"

"W-well you seem to have a knack for h-hom" he cleared his throat. "homicide with an audience as its sometimes c-called. It **usually **occurs in m-mental patients who were attention starved as children, or the p-po-poossibly the result of delusions of grandeur, one of the symptoms of M-megalomania and Sc-schizophrenia." He explained.

"Hmmm, I'll have to look into that." I mumbled " Well, lets get started!" I set the small video camera down on a shelf, aiming it so that it was at the perfect angle to film me and my unwilling volunteer. Ohhh an oxymoron! How delightfully evil!

Turning on the camera, I smoothly introduced myself, made death threats, looked menacing, the works.

Finally after a particularly sinister laugh, I introduced the terrified doctor on the floor.

"Ohhh and you'll love this, this is Dr. Henry Hemstine. He's going to be a contestant on my little show." said doctor started to sob.

I bent down to his level and softy brushed the side of his face with my gloved hand. "Ohh shush shush shush shush shush." I cooed deviously, trying to suppress a giggle. "Tell me doc, how long would it take to die if I cut off all your fingers?" I said bluntly.

He was crying even harder now.

I gripped his chin. "Answer me." I said in a sing-song voice holding the blade to his neck.

He held his breath and stopped sobbing for a moment to answer me. "T-that would not necessarily guarantee d-death. At some point the blood will begin to c-c-clot and the b-bleeding will stop or slow down enough to the p-point where the body can begin to recov-ver."

"Oooo, interesting. Well I'm not sure that's completely true, lets test it out shall we!"

I grabbed his hand and pinned it down to the floor by his wrist while my right hand hovered just above is thumb with the small knife. He tried frantically to pry his hand away but to no avail.

He screamed as I started slicing into his thumb, clawing and kicking at me until I got fed up with it all.

I shoved my leg into his chest, knocking him into one of many the shelves that lined the small storage room, causing a couple of seemingly important medical tools and papers to fall upon us.

**Normal POV**

Papers flooded around them, tubes became soaked in the terrified mans blood. He let loose an animalistic yell, twitching and crying. Trying fruitlessly to shove the mad man off of him, whom of which had just started his fourth finger.

_How dare he yell in my ear like that!_

"Shush! This is a hospital you know!" The clown giggled at his own little joke.

Of course this only made the doctor scream louder, hoping to wake one of the patients up. Their reaction to mysterious screaming in the hall would be to of course call a nurse.

Getting aggravated with all the yelling, the crazed clown hurried his ministrations until the doctors right hand was completely de-fingered. Carmine blood seeped from the wounds but, like the doctor had previously explained, The blood started clotting almost a soon as the fingers were removed. "Hmmm…" the Joker tapped his chin. "No, no this wont do at all…"

"Dr. Hemstine was it? Yes well, It seems you were right. Your not dead…" Said doctor was no longer screaming but instead simply staring in shock at his now fingerless hand.

"Ohhh! I've got an idea!" The Joker ran out of the small storage room but just as the doctor thought it safe to escape, he ran back in, slamming the door behind him. The doctors eyes widened at what he saw. The Joker had in his hands a bone saw in place of the small pocket knife.

Tears streamed down the horrified mans face. "Please oh please no!"

"Sorry." the Joker said sing-song like. He started up the saw, taking those few steps to were the other man lay. He knelt down in front of him, the tips of his coat becoming soaked in blood.

"I don't want you leaving this 'fine' world so sad. How 'bout a smile?"

The presumably younger man choked a sob but did his best to put on a pitiful grin before the Joker shoved the bone saw deep into his temple. It happened so fast the poor man didn't have a chance to scream.

Chunks of doctory brain and skull flew into the air and blood spurted out like a fountain, dyeing the white grease paint a deep carmine. The buzz of the saw grew louder then slowly died down, leaving the only remaining living being in the storage room with a light ringing in his ears. Still in his kneeling position the joker dropped the saw in favor of the bloodied knife in his pocket, then proceeded to slit the mans cheeks and shove a Jokers card in the dead mans mouth.

The clowns giggles soon erupted into uncontrollable laughter. "HAHAHHAH Hmph hahahAHAHA HAH AH aha haha ha!" His chest heaved and his throat was sore but he didn't care.

Still laughing, the mad man sobered himself up enough to click the forgotten camera off and open the small rooms door, which in turn knocked over a few nosey hench-clowns who had their ears to it.

They stood gaping at their boss, who, unbeknown to him, had thick blood coating his entire face and dripping down the front of his once purple suit.

The Joker put on an innocent smile. "What?"

---------------------------------------------------------------**AUTHORS NOTES**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Not one of my proudest chapters though I hope you enjoyed it. ^_^' The homicide with an audience thing came from a medical excerpt in a test i took at school. I couldn't remember the actual name for the disorder so I put in the commonly known name.

**Please Review!** Ideas, comments, questions, and constructive criticism are always welcome! **Flames will be used to burn down innocent ginger bread men! **

**On a side note**, Carmine is the general term for a particularly deep red color and I just love using it in place of the usual 'blood red' or 'crimson'. Be sure to check out my other story '**Sadistic Clowns are Bad for Your Health**'!

_**Ba-bye!**_


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